


my rightful place, here, in your heart

by karasunotsubasa



Series: life and love, and zines [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Cockrings, Coming Inside, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Fingerfucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, NSFW Art, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rope Burn - A Yuri!!! on Ice Shibari Zine, Shibari, Smut, Sweet/Hot, Teasing, medals used VERY improperly, victor still skates, yuuri doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 08:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21013085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/pseuds/karasunotsubasa
Summary: Before Victor knew it, he has given away his name, his number, and his heart, too. All of it to a man who changed his world within a single night. To a man whose name he didn't know then, but who later on he learned to call his.His Yuuri.





	my rightful place, here, in your heart

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was written for the rope burn shibari zine, and I had the pleasure of collabing with [@RTengusama](https://twitter.com/RTengusama/), who made a stunning art of a tied, wrecked vitya, which you can find below ;3c  
I hope you enjoy it, and if you do drop us a word? 😉🙏

There is little else that Victor would say he wants as badly as he wants Yuuri, with maybe the exception of Yuuri's cock, right here, right now, plunging deep into his slick, gaping hole. But whichever gods have lead him to find his life and love in the man that slowly strokes his cheek as if he has all the time in the world, while Victor's cock weeps almost as much as his eyes do from the strain in his limbs and the burn of the ropes melted into his skin, those same gods seem to have abandoned him now to this sweet, sweet torture.

And, on the one hand, Victor is delighted to suffer like this for as long as Yuuri wishes to see him so wrecked, so utterly owned, so irrevocably his, but on the other… On the other, the ache inside Victor grows with every second, with every scrap of Yuuri's nails on his sensitive skin, and with every word that falls off those darling lips that never cease to amaze him.

"Oh, you're so pretty like this, Vitya," Yuuri tells him in a voice so filled with admiration that Victor's cock throbs with pride.

The medal, the one he'd just won in the Grand Prix all but two days ago, is wrapped around his length as if that's where it belongs. The heavy weight of the gold that pulls on his cock is as divine as it is annoying, Victor has come to find out. It's pressure, but not pressure _enough_. And the longer it stays on, the more desperate Victor is to replace it with Yuuri's hand, Yuuri's mouth, anything – just to take the edge off.

Yuuri, however, doesn't seem to care, and that lack of concern is what makes Victor shudder to the bones. That, and the clear pleasure in Yuuri's voice as he keeps feeding praise after praise to fill Victor starving heart.

"You look like you're having so much fun," Yuuri says now. "Are you enjoying yourself as much as I enjoy watching you like this? Do you like this as much as I like seeing you this way? Tell me, Vitya."

A little moan leaves Victor's parted mouth when he breathes enough air to chance an answer. "I would enjoy myself a lot more if you weren't this overdressed."

True enough, Yuuri's trousers are still in place, his shirt barely open enough to give Victor a sweet glimpse of Yuuri's sun-kissed skin. He's teasing Victor like this, and Victor knows it. It's all part of the game they play together. Victor, who loves surprises, who has based his entire career, his life, almost, on his ability to surprise others, relinquishes that urge, that need to satisfy others – all to satisfy Yuuri.

And, as if to return the favour, it is Yuuri who surprises him constantly. He teases him, denies him what Victor wants most, shakes the very core of him when Victor suspects it the least. That in itself is what Victor has been searching for, but that in addition to the way Yuuri makes his heart tremble by simply being near drives Victor mad with passion.

Yuuri never seems to notice, or if he does, he pretends not to, as if to spurn Victor's needs into a bind so twisted and thick that he pants under the strain of it.

He does so now, too.

Yuuri steps up to Victor, so close that the fabric of his trousers touches Victor's lips, light like a feather's kiss. Victor arches his neck to press them to the warmth that hides beneath, to the one thing he desperately yearns for – Yuuri's thick, hard cock, swollen and red, and leaking like his own does where it hangs heavy down his thigh – but Yuuri never lets him.

A hand buries itself in Victor's sweat-slicked hair and pulls his head back, harsh enough to make the muscles of Victor's neck ache.

"Not yet."

Victor whines.

He loves it when Yuuri tests the limits of his patience, the limits of his body and his spirit. But every time he does it, something that is both equally sweet and painful, and sweet in its pain, trails down Victor's spine right to the dip between his cheeks, where his ass has already been split open on Yuuri's fingers and the plug that Victor misses almost as much as he misses Yuuri's cock.

Those same fingers that gave him so much pleasure before, now tighten their hold in Victor's hair to clear his head of the delicious thoughts that make Victor's entire body tremble. He stands only on one leg, while his other has been tied over him. It shakes in its binds, but Yuuri's ropework is strong enough to keep it in place. The split would be an easy thing to withstand, but after having been brought close to orgasm twice already and never allowed to finish, the strain is enough to make Victor impatient in his wants.

"First," Yuuri directs as if he doesn't notice Victor's aching, "you need to help me with my pants. Unzip them for me, will you?"

Under his lips, Victor can feel the roughness of the material when Yuuri directs his head towards his crotch. Yuuri holds Victor in place by the hair, and even though Victor's neck begins to stiffen from the unnatural position, Victor mouths along the edge of the hem that hides the zipper. At the very top, he flicks his tongue out to taste the metallic tinge of the button, before he wraps his lips around it and pops it open with all the learned skill his tongue possesses.

"Yes, just like that," Yuuri praises, and his words fall on Victor's skin like nectar – sticky and warm, and delicious. "Slowly, Vitya. Good boy."

As instructed, Victor's lips move lower, find the metal of the zipper. The skin of Yuuri's stomach that Victor's nose brushes with his every breath is warm and soft, but Victor's mouth is filled with the taste of metal and want, so he doesn't linger. Desperate, he tugs at the zipper with his teeth. The sound it makes as it goes down fills him with so much anticipation that his entire body tingles. Victor pants when he's done, nuzzling his nose into the hard cock he can now feel only though the thin material of Yuuri's underwear.

"Yuuri, please…" Victor begs, breathing in the musky scent of Yuuri's desire as if that is the lone thing he wants to fill his lungs with for the rest of his life. In the moment, it might be as well. "I don't think I can suffer this for much longer."

"Ah, but you can," Yuuri injects.

His hips roll gently into Victor's face. He grinds into his nose, his lips, and Victor moans because all he can feel is the material and not the silky softness of Yuuri's cock.

"You can, can't you, Vitya? You're such a good boy for me, you can wait until I'm ready, no?"

Victor moans when Yuuri's hand disappears from his hair and he must hold up his head himself if he wants to rest wet, panting kisses against Yuuri's clothed cock. And he wants it, he wants it _very much_. But more than he wants this, he wants to have that cock inside him, filling him to the brim and making him scream with all the pleasure that now only trembles beneath his skin.

Still, he'll have small pleasures first before they move on to the big course. Anything he can get from his–

"Yuuri–"

"Hush, darling."

Yuuri presses a thumb to Victor's lips, and in all his yearning, Victor sucks on it like a man starving. He wishes it was something else, something thicker and warmer, and–

Yuuri clicks his tongue. "Open."

Expectation thrills through Victor's veins when he drops his mouth open like a dog happy to see his master. He thinks it's time, that he'll have Yuuri's cock at last – this way at least, if not the one he wants most.

Yuuri takes away his hand, but none of Victor's expectations are fulfilled. Instead, Yuuri steps away and Victor loses his heat, his scent, his closeness.

He whines, and he pouts, but inside him something sweet melts in his belly and runs all the way to his cock, throbbing and weeping in delight.

"You've been so cheeky today that I don't know if I should fuck you like this or just leave you here to watch as I get off. Which do you think would be better, Vitya? Which would you like more?" Yuuri asks.

He walks around Victor, takes his time. Victor can hear the moment when his pants drop to the floor, and when his underwear follows. Just thinking of Yuuri, naked, standing behind him and admiring his work – Victor's tied arms, the rope knotted around his body, the spread cheeks and lifted leg, and open, slick hole just waiting to be filled – it has Victor clenching on nothing simply from the excitement of what is to come.

He should answer Yuuri like he asked, Victor thinks, but what should he say? If he picks what he so desperately wants, will Yuuri give it to him? Or will he choose the other thing to surprise Victor and keep him in his reins? Or, or did he ask to make Victor confused about picking, so Yuuri can decide for him when he loses grip on his wants and needs?

Groaning, Victor bites his lip, because he can't decide.

And then he gasps, because Yuuri's deft fingers slip into his hole without any warning. They push in, pull out, and while Yuuri steadily fucks Victor on them, he says:

"You need to decide, love, or I will leave you hanging like this until you come on your own."

"Ah–" Victor almost sobs at the prospect of going unfulfilled. His cock throbs again, and he bites his tongue in his haste to answer. "Please, Yuuri– Please… Fuck me!"

Yuuri's fingers curl inside him, a sweet pressure against Victor's prostate. He sees stars, beautiful and bright, and–

"Am I not doing that?" Yuuri asks, playing innocently naive. "You need to clearly tell me what you want, Vitya, or how else am I supposed to know?"

"But you–"

Victor moans, then twitches and the blade of the skate he so precariously stands on slips a little. The bindings around him tighten as he tries to regain his balance. Breathless for a second, Victor speaks again only after the surprise of the moment fades. Yuuri's thumb does not cease its tender caress to the soft skin right above Victor's balls, which hang all the heavier for it, even though his other hand has come around Victor's waist to support him.

"But will you fuck me with your cock if I ask? I begged," Victor gasps through shock and pleasure, "I begged you before and you didn't."

"Only because you weren't ready for me yet," Yuuri answers, twisting his hand and pushing his fingers deep to the last knuckle into Victor's greedy hole. They're thick and they feel good, but… _not enough_. "But you're ready now, aren't you, Vitya? You want me– No, you _need _me to fill you up, don't you? You're so ready that any moment longer will make you scream?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Victor moans, clenching hard on Yuuri's fingers. "Please, Yuuri, please…!"

"Say it, Vitya," Yuuri orders. "Tell me what you want, and you will have it. You won another gold medal to add to the collection. Count this as your reward."

Head spinning from desire, Victor's tongue wobbles around the words that spill from his lips within the same breath.

"I want your cock so deep in my ass that I will feel it when I skate weeks from now."

Yuuri only chuckles. "Wouldn't they notice that you lack your usual grace? That the great Victor Nikiforov is skating as if he has a stick up his ass?"

"Not a stick," Victor pants. "Your cock… Please, Yuuri… You promised..."

"I did, didn't I?"

Yuuri hums. His fingers still work Victor up, slow, but steady, and the heat that Victor has been fighting against has risen again, threatening to overtake him should it last any longer. He even feels it in his face.

"I need to keep my promise, then."

Victor doesn't hear when Yuuri coats his cock with lube, but he doesn't care. All he cares about is the moment when those teasing fingers withdraw and Yuuri's thick cock takes their place. A strangled cry of delight escapes him when it happens. Yuuri sinks into him within one thrust, and he doesn't pause to allow Victor even one breath. He begins to fuck him, harder and faster with every moan Victor gives in utter bliss.

"Yes, yes, yes," Victor sings, "Yuuri, yes, _more_!"

"You're so greedy, Vitya," Yuuri tells him, slapping his ass hard enough that it smarts long after. "But without that greed we probably wouldn't have met, so tell me, do you like being greedy?" The slap of their skin in the background makes a plain question so much more dirty. Victor moans again, and again, and again, with every thrust and every word Yuuri gives him. "Do you enjoy wanting things and working for them? Just like you've worked for my cock?"

He's right, in a way. Victor is greedy. He wants things and he isn't afraid of working towards achieving them. His first years in the skating world were proof enough of that. But as the time passed and his skills developed, his greed has waned. It turned into ashes in his mouth, into aches in his limbs, into fake smiles and disappointments. He would have carried on like that – unfulfilled, aimless, depressed – until he retired not from choice but simply from boredom and the lack of challenge.

Or, at least, he would've if he hadn't met Yuuri.

It was a chance meeting, a meeting of fates, Victor likes to believe. On a drunken night, by pure accident he stumbled into a club, and by pure accident also, on that night alone, the club was hosting a party for the BDSM community in Tokyo. As soon as Victor learned that, he was ready to leave, but… from afar he spotted the most beautiful man he's ever seen, and that, that halted his decision. He might not have had the courage to speak to him, but as it turned out, he wasn't the only one affected by their secret glances at each other through the crowds of people. The same man had come to Victor a few drinks in, enchanted him with his smile, with his wit, with the life that poured out of him in every move.

Before Victor knew it, he has given away his name, his number, and his heart, too. All of it to a man who changed his world within a single night. To a man, whose name he didn't know then, but who later on he learned to call his.

_His Yuuri. _

Yuuri, who took one look at him with his clouded brown gaze and brought him down to his knees within a single conversation. Yuuri, who awakened the greed in Victor anew. Yuuri, who showed him that there is a whole world outside of skating – a world Victor has been missing out on during his chase after each consecutive title.

Yuuri, who has brought him pleasure and desires that could never be sated: an eternal well of greed and fulfilment, both.

It is why, thinking of all that, Victor feels no shame in admitting: "Yes, I'm greedy. For you always, my Yuuri."

Yuuri must be as pleased to hear it as Victor is pleased to say it, because he grinds deep into Victor's ass as if to reward him for his honesty. Yuuri's balls brush against Victor's thigh, slap against his own when Yuuri thrusts into him with new energy, and Victor moans. He moans and he begs, and he pleads…

"Yuuri… Please, Yuuri! Yuuri, touch me, I want to come!"

"Why so impatient?" Yuuri asks him then, fucking into him hard enough to make Victor's entire body sway with each thrust. The medal tied around Victor's cock swings around like a pendulum and the thought would make Victor laugh, but the slight tugging, the pressure, the promise of release make his gut churn with yearning. "If you liked things quick, would you have bothered to come to me, I wonder. You wouldn't, hmm?"

"I would," Victor objects, biting his lip on another moan. Yuuri's cock rubs against his prostate, fills him up good and thick, and it's _delightful_. "I would always… come… to you."

Yuuri's silky laughter runs across Victor's skin in a rain of shivers that have him tremble in his bonds. Yuuri notices, he always does, and he turns his head to kiss Victor's knee, which is bent right next to his face.

"Yuuri," Victor moans, both deliriously happy from the tender gesture and also quite unhappy at the cock that has stopped fucking him to do it.

Yuuri chuckles again. "Yes, yes, my Vitya. I know. Here's your reward."

And he gives it to him like Victor wanted it: hard and fast, and cleansing. Yuuri's hand slips to Victor's cock and the medal dangling from it, but even then he doesn't stop fucking into him. Yuuri's fingers tug at the strip of the medal before they take Victor's cock and squeeze. Victor moans on a choked breath as pain and pleasure and the need to come overwhelm him, but even as they do, Yuuri doesn't release him.

"You've been a good boy, Vitya," Yuuri tells him, stroking his cock from the base to the tip crowned with gold. "Even though you're cheeky, and demanding, and impatient."

"You like me like that," Victor gasps while stars burst through his vision one after another. "Tell me... you like me... like that…?"

"I like you like that," Yuuri allows. His cock spreads Victor open, fills him up to the brim, and the words only serve to fill his heart as well. "I love you like that. _I love you_, Vitya. My Victor, my lovely golden champion."

As if he knew what power his words have over Victor, he says it all, and he pounds the truth of them into Victor's greedy hole. Victor, who takes it all in, absorbs it as if he needs it to live, to love, to be human still – he trembles, and cries out, and comes all over the gold medal he has just won.

Yuuri's cock coaxes him through his orgasm, relentlessly fucking into him until Victor mewls and twitches. Until his leg, the only thing that keeps him up, almost gives under his weight. But even then, Yuuri keeps filling him hard and fast, reaching for his own release. And then he finds it, groaning and pushing in deep once more, so that his cum can fill the parts of Victor that even his cock can't reach.

It's warm when it fills him and still warm when Yuuri withdraws and the cum slowly trails out of Victor's stretched out hole. Even the strap of the medal and the gold itself are covered in cum, but as Victor looks at the pendant dangling from his cock he cannot find it in himself to complain. After all, this win was just as much his as it was Yuuri's, and now it has truly been claimed as such.

Without speaking, Yuuri moves about him to untie his arms and leg with gentle fingers. Victor groans when his joints crack as Yuuri returns them carefully to their natural positions, massaging his aches away as he goes. Just as tenderly, Yuuri takes off Victor's skates. Victor almost collapses when he tries to stand on both feet, but Yuuri catches him before he can, so Victor slumps against him with a relieved sigh.

"I'm going to lift you up, okay?" Yuuri warns, and Victor nods.

In Yuuri's arms, Victor is carried through the room and laid out on a soft bedding of silk. His eyes close while Yuuri works on the remaining knots he has so patiently tied before. He's no less patient now, and Victor feels no tugs as the ropes come off, only the blissful feeling of being unwound and cleansed.

Free.

"Can you turn over for me?" Yuuri asks, and Victor obeys.

He presses his cheek against a pillow and drifts off. He isn't sleeping, because he feels every touch of Yuuri's hands, but he is in the state of the blissful afterglow that almost seems like it. The ropes come off knot after knot, and once done, Yuuri taps Victor's shoulder to have him turn back.

In the heat of passion it was hard to notice, but when Yuuri's hands untie the medal from his cock, Victor finally feels how heavy it was and how sensitive his skin is afterwards. There are red imprints in it, he's sure. He will most likely feel the true tenderness once the adrenaline that still churns in his veins settles, but for now he simply sighs in relief.

Yuuri doesn't waste a moment more before he crawls into the bed right next to him. In his hands is a bottle of lotion, which he begins to rub into the red marks denting Victor's skin. He's gentle, he's warm, and he's sweet when he rests a kiss in Victor's messy, sweaty hair once he's finished.

"How are you feeling?" Yuuri asks, voice soft.

"Sore," Victor breathes, and groans a little when he tries to turn to look into Yuuri's face. "But good."

"What does good mean?" Yuuri prods again.

He doesn't ask more, doesn't offer Victor a choice between satisfied, or spent, or happy. He simply waits for what Victor decides to give him, and it makes Victor smile.

"I feel light," he tells him, turning over. He nuzzles into Yuuri's neck and Yuuri wraps an arm around him to give him all the comfort he needs. "Free and… good."

"I'm happy then," Yuuri replies. "Thank you for today. You were amazing."

He holds him close until both their bodies chill. One of Yuuri's hands settles on Victor's back, a warm grounding presence, while the other plays with Victor's hair in a way that both soothes his abused nerves and keeps him from the part of him that still feels wound up.

"I watched your program," Yuuri tells him after some time. "You were so beautiful, you know? I haven't seen anything that spoke to me like your skating has that first time I saw you, but even now it still amazes me. Stammi Vicino is truly magnificent. Just like you."

He drops another kiss onto Victor's forehead.

"You deserved to win that gold," he says, and then follows it with: "I'm so proud of you, Vitya."

It's so warm, so sweet to hear the words that Victor didn't even know he wanted to hear until he heard them. And more, spoken by the one person who means so much to him, they feel like a countercharm against every evil that has been plaguing his life this far.

Tears prickle at Victor's eyes, but his lips quirk in a smile anyway. As if he knows, Yuuri kisses his head, kisses his temples, the tip of his nose. He rests a tiny, sweet kiss on Victor's lips too, a gift and a thank you in one.

"Do you think you could skate it for me one day?" Yuuri asks, stroking Victor's cheek. His eyes are warm and full of love, and melt Victor's heart into bliss.

He can't help but laugh, then.

"One day? Yuuri," Victor chides gently, "every time I skate it, it's for you. _Always_."

The surprise on Yuuri's face is heady, but the clear delight it softens into is even more so. It's accompanied by a blush that spills onto Yuuri's cheeks so pretty that Victor cannot help but arch his neck and resting a kiss on Yuuri's lips.

"The medal... That's for you, too," Victor says.

Yuuri returns the kiss and tenderly brushes a strand of Victor's hair behind his ear. He smiles when their eyes meet, and says back:

"Then let me give you something round and gold in return."

There is a small table by the bedside, where every time before they start Victor rests his folded clothes. It's also where, on top of them, Yuuri leaves Victor's engagement ring. This is a ritual they always follow, one that has always been a source of honeyed happiness in Victor's heart – before every scene, before every play, Yuuri kneels, kisses Victor's hand, and tenderly slides the ring off of Victor's finger only to return it once they both regain the presence of their minds after everything is over. 

Now, Yuuri takes the ring from the top of the clothes, where it glints golden in the overhead lights, even as dim as they are. He turns back to Victor, who doesn't need to be asked to offer his hand with a smile. The ring slides onto his finger smoothly, sits against his knuckle like it doesn't belong anywhere else.

And it doesn't. This is its place. Its rightful, most wanted home.

Yuuri brings Victor's hand to his lips and kisses the ring. His smile is sweet, his eyes are soft.

And Victor knows, as he joins their fingers together, that this, right here, is his place, too. His one and only, forever home. Right here, in Yuuri's arms, at Yuuri's side, in Yuuri's heart.

**Author's Note:**

> make sure you give tengu your appreciation for the wonderful wrecked vitya ;3c


End file.
